What Dreams May Come
by luckyricochet
Summary: Guren hated dreams. Good ones were few and far between. Every night, he descended into the unknown, forced to endure until he was shocked into consciousness or the waking hours finally broke through. Such were the circumstances…Didn't mean they weren't damn disturbing. GureMahi.


**A/N: There is a criminal lack of work about Guren, so here's my contribution. Reviews are appreciated!**

 _Song of choice: "Black Water" - Of Monsters and Men_

 _Swallowed by a vicious vengeful sea_

 _Darker days are raining over me_

* * *

Guren hated sleeping. He hated the darkness that overcame him, he hated the sense of vulnerability that the state induced. Most of all though, he hated the dreams.

Good ones were few and far between. Every night, he descended into the unknown, forced to endure until he was shocked into consciousness or the waking hours finally broke through. Such were the circumstances, though, Guren accepted.

Didn't mean they weren't damn disturbing.

The sun would slowly make its way behind the horizon, letting the moon take its place among the clouds. Stars punctured the velvet blue-black sky with their pricks of light. From Guren's quarters, he had a good view of their brightness, a bitter realization in his eyes. He was sure he was living in hell, so what kind of hell was it if it was still able to boast such nostalgic sights? No, he didn't care for the stars much, he thought as he lay down.

Slowly, he surrendered. Darkness folded over him, the shadows of his room melting into complete blackness as he was pulled under. Guren didn't mind this stage of sleep. It was blank, slow, and calm. Almost comforting. Then the world brightened once more—

* * *

Something was tickling his face. Sharp, but soft at the same time. It was grass. A clean lawn. Above him, a cloudless, clear sky. Guren stated up at the blue, eyes slightly shut against the brightness. The last time he had been here was just yesterday. Or was it over fifteen years ago, when he had been a naïve child? It might have been both, depending on how it was looked at. It didn't matter. This was a place he knew well.

As it was, whenever Guren came upon this field in his dreams, he was an adult. Sometimes he gazed at his younger self, watching as third party witness. Other times, his adult self was the only version of him present. Today it was the latter.

He knew that she would be lying next to him. She always was. They were close: Guren could feel her now, her finger tips brushing against his. And like he had been always been able to before, he could hear her breathing.

It was a sound that agonized him. She wasn't a demon in this world. No, she was human. She was alive here. Only in his mind. So tantalizingly close...he longed to turn his head and gaze into her face, take in the deep black eyes that he so loved—

But he resisted. This weakness was threatening. He had learned well enough from his experiences in the past. To look at her would mean seeing a sight that hurt more than any wound a sword could inflict upon him. He contented himself with simply grasping her hand fully. It was an innocent enough move.

"Hey Guren." Her voice rang out in the silence, touching Guren to his very core. He didn't respond though, keeping his eyes fixed above. She laughed a little, sounding irritatingly similar then to her sister.

"How can you be so cold to me?"

It was an easy way to provoke him into answering. She was different. He couldn't treat her the way he treated other people, and they both knew it.

"You can look at me, Guren."

He did not move.

"No nightmares tonight," she went on. "This is your reprieve."

No nightmares. Seemed—

"Too good to be true, right?" she said. Sadness tinged her voice. "You know I would never lie to you."

She wouldn't, Guren agreed. A demon might.

But he felt different tonight. Calmness flooded his soul, removing any sense of urgency or alarm. Normality had settled upon him. It was safe. Slowly, he turned to look at her.

A smile radiating pure joy greeted him. It stripped him of his final barriers; he couldn't help them falling in the face of such happiness. She was an adult here too, not the adolescent that normally spoke to him, and more beautiful than ever. Even so, she exhibited the features of one who had lived for a very long time. Maturity. Sadness. Regret. Inexplicably, Guren reached forward and touched her face. It was as soft as he remembered.

"Hey Mahiru."

It came out as a whisper. Her eyes widened at her name, then relaxed once more.

"There you are." She smiled playfully. "Oh Guren. You were always so gentle. I feel lucky I'm able to see it."

He didn't say anything, knowing she was poking fun at his attitude towards his subordinates. He didn't want to think about them, or anything relating to what awaited him when he woke up. Mahiru likewise kept silent afterward. He was unable to break his gaze from her eyes. It seemed ages since he had last seen them so. All he wanted to was stare into them until their blackness took him over. Suddenly, though, Mahiru moved so she lay against him. Guren didn't mind. He automatically let his arm go around her, and she sought out his hand again. Guren closed his eyes, content to hold her.

He was transported to back then. Before everything had gone to shit. Before he knew about the politics. He could envision the sight he and Mahiru formed now. Two lovers lying on the grass, underneath an interminable blue sky. A modest but intimate gesture connecting them. An almost identical image to the one they had formed when they were younger. His heart was easy. She had spoken the truth. No nightmares would infiltrate his mind tonight.

Unless—

His eyes flew open and he sat up abruptly. He stared off into the distance, listening.

"Guren." He looked down at her, where she still lay on the grass. "Don't worry. We aren't children anymore. No one is going to come."

They both knew what she was referring to. The memory of it still filled Guren with fire, at the injustice and cruelty. But it settled after a moment. Mahiru was right. This was only a dream. He lowered himself onto the grass again.

"I like this," Mahiru murmured softly. She ran her finger over his hand, tracing a pattern. "I wish...I wish it could be like this always. I wish it had been like this..."

Guren understood. To be normal people, allowed to love whomever they wanted, see whomever they wanted. To have this much freedom. To not have lived in such a fucked up time.

"Why couldn't we have been together, Guren? Why couldn't we have just been allowed to love each other..."

This wasn't a nightmare, but it still hurt.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed together. Time was hard to discern in dreams, and Guren didn't really care either. He could have stayed there forever. But life wasn't that kind, especially his life. It was gone too soon. It shut off, like flipping a light switch. The light had evaporated, the warmth. He found himself suddenly feeling very bare and cold, devoid of any emotion. There was no sky above him, no grass beneath him, and certainly no Mahiru next to him. At least, not in the traditional sense, Guren thought as he glanced over to his sword.

Sunlight peeked through the windows, begging for the curtains to be drawn fully so as to douse the room in its presence. Guren hardly noticed it. This sun was nothing. He pressed his hands into his face, trying to prevent himself from trembling. Sleep had granted him a reprieve? A chance to reunite with the one he loved most, only for her to be whisked away, like she always had been before, time and time again. The separation tortured him more than the nightmares.

Damn, he hated dreams.


End file.
